


Electric Blue

by fat_fish_in_space



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Force Choking, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation, Murder Husbands, Poisoning, Possessive Behavior, Serial Killers, Sex, i have no idea what more i could tag so go ahead and tell me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 05:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15357711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fat_fish_in_space/pseuds/fat_fish_in_space
Summary: Tarkin feels the itch thrumming under his skin and he knows he doesn't have much time left before he snaps.Thankfully, Vader is there to help his lover and they already found their perfect victim.





	Electric Blue

**Author's Note:**

> No BETA!
> 
> English is not my first language! 
> 
> ***
> 
> The Murder Husbands AU nobody asked for lol, but I still delivered, 'cause why the hell not?

When Wilhuff first noticed the furious and heated gaze of Orson Krennic he didn’t give it much thought. The Grand Moff was used to other Officers looking at him with anger mixed with respect, sometimes even desire. If he were to care about any of that he was sure he would go mad sooner or later. In retrospect, he should have realized that there was more to the Director than he first believed and that the man would not back down so easily. After all, he did manage to grab the Emperor’s attention with his idea, the little pest. Still, it didn’t make him worry too much.

It would be all the more fun to break him later.

 

***

 

Escalation of their conflict was putting it lightly. What started as a few open disagreements between the two soon turned into a fully blown out war. It wasn’t unusual to see Director Krennic and Grand Moff Tarkin in an argument, mostly with the younger man screaming at his superior in rage, while Tarkin watched him with a deep frown and his lips lifting a bit as if to snarl back. But so far Wilhuff kept his cool and didn’t let Krennic provoke him. He was too old for such childish behavior and experience taught him that getting on the same level as the Director would not solve anything. Vader of course heard about the situation and wanted to know if his intervention was needed, ready to arrive at any moment to deal with Krennic. But Tarkin simply informed his lover that for now he was handling things, although he couldn’t wait to get personal with the Director one day. The Sith didn’t need more to understand the message and dropped the subject for the time being. He knew Wilhuff would contact him when he was certain what he wanted to do about the younger man.  Between the two, Tarkin was the one much better at the planning part of their little hobby. Besides, he wouldn’t want to step on his lover’s toes when he was agitated like that.

The answer as to what they would do came sooner than they both expected.

Krennic was warned by everyone not to anger the Governor. Rumor had it that anyone who crossed the man would turn up dead soon enough, mostly massacred beyond recognition. Some said it was the man himself murdering competition. Others that Tarkin had a serial killer admirer who would do anything for him. Nobody would say all of this out loud, too afraid the man in question would hear it, but people still gossiped about it, even if there wasn’t any proof. But the proud man wouldn’t listen. Instead he kept pushing Wilhuff’s buttons until the unimaginable happened.

Grand Moff Tarkin snapped.

The first time this transpired they were surrounded by only a few Officers and discussing something concerning the overdue shipments of parts for project Stardust. Nothing was even hinting at the storm that was about to come, in fact, the two have been behaving very civil with each other for the last days. Everyone hoped that it meant the end of the feud and they could finally relax a little.

But then Orson Krennic just had to have the last word.

“Honestly, I don’t see the point.” He started simply.

They switched to talking about Vader inspecting the battle station before the Emperor came. Considering his status and relationship with the man, it would make sense for the Sith to check that everything was up to his Master’s standards and give his recommendation to the Galaxy’s ruler. It was simple logic, at least to Tarkin. In addition, he would be able to meet with his lover after a very long absence from each other, which was making him start to itch a bit. His more… gruesome tendencies had to be calmed down somehow and Vader could help him with that.

They didn’t want a repeat of what happened THAT one time when they were separated for too long.

“Are you questioning the idea itself or are you simply trying to make this difficult for me?” Asked Tarkin calmly, but he could already feel the beginnings of a snarl on his lips.

It was getting harder with each day not to simply rip into Krennic with his bare hands. The younger man was insufferable and the fact that he hasn’t gone on a hunt for a long time…

The itch was getting bad…

“I just think that that the project has no need for an extra inspection. It’s perfect and I am sure the Emperor will agree, so there is no point in bothering Lord Vader about it. Especially since he already voiced his opinion on it and I am sure he will do everything he can to undermine the project.” Answered Krennic with a little shrug of his shoulders.

To others he might have looked nonchalant in his gesture, but Wilhuff could see the challenging fire in blue eyes when they locked gazes.

“Are you honestly still going to act like a complete child about this? We have already spoken about why Lord Vader has to inspect the battle station and the topic does not fall under any further discussion.” Said Tarkin coldly as he straightened in his chair to make himself look bigger.

A simple intimidation tactic, but how very effective. Krennic looked a bit coved, yet the fire was still there and burning brighter than before. He was angry of course. Wilhuff knew he was insulting the man’s intelligence by treating him the way he did, but since the Director refused to act his age and station then he had no choice but to put him in his place somehow. And if he enjoyed it, well, that was the least he could get from having to put up with the other on daily basis.

“I am sure the Emperor can give his opinion himself when he sees what a wonder I have created and I don’t need his pet monster’s approval for that.” Hissed out Krennic.

Oh, so this is how he wanted to play. If Tarkin were to be honest with himself, it wasn’t the pure disrespect the Director just displayed towards him that made red cloud his vision. No, it was the way he spoke about Vader who wasn’t even present to defend himself. Wilhuff was very protective of the other man, knowing that he hid an unusual vulnerability beneath his armor. And while he was certain the Sith wouldn’t care much for the Director’s opinion, he would still defend the man.

“I’m sorry, but when did you meet the Emperor that you can so freely speak about what he would do? Are you perhaps somehow close to him? Is there a relationship here that I was not made aware of? It is his own wish that Lord Vader inspect this little project before he so much as thinks about having to bother himself to come here and see it. If you do not understand how much power Lord Vader has in the Empire then I don’t think you will survive here for much longer.”

The words were clearly spiteful and Tarkin saw out of the corner of his eye the surprised looks of the other Officers. He must have raised his voice to an unusual degree. Losing his cool in front of everyone wasn’t a good idea, but Krennic has been getting on his nerves for weeks now. And even someone like Wilhuff Tarkin had his limits.

“Are you actually threatening me? Maybe I should inform the Emperor that his Grand Moff is going around and implying that Lord Vader has more sway than him in his own Empire?” Snarled back Krennic and Wilhuff felt lips pull back slowly.

“You think he would actually have an audience with someone as insignificant as you, let alone believe such foolish allegations? I have known the Emperor for years, have stood by his side since the very beginning of his rule, even before that. He knows very well that I would never betray him in any way or do anything to threaten his position and reputation. If I were in your position, Krennic, I would consider my next words and thread with caution, because you are already on a very thin ice.”

He was almost shouting at this point, his voice raised and full of anger. Everyone around them went stiff and quiet, observing the spectacle with horror and fascination. Getting provoked like this was unprofessional and below him, but the itch under his skin was becoming unbearable at this point and Tarkin knew that unless he took care of it soon, he would be behaving very out of control indeed.

It was the next words, leaving Orson Krennic’s mouth, that sealed his fate.

“Hmmm… So you know the Emperor so well? I wonder, was it before or after you let him fuck you that he appointed you as the Grand Moff? Seems curious that you are the only man in the whole Empire with that title.”

There was no logic in that statement. Everyone knew Tarkin was already on his way to greatness before he met Palpatine. The Sith simply helped him achieve it faster and a on a much bigger scale than Wilhuff ever dreamed of. No sexual advances were ever made towards him by the Emperor, their relationship very professional, after all, they have known each other for decades and worked so well together. If anything, Vader would be a much better candidate for such line of thought, especially since it was true that Tarkin was involved with the Dark Lord. Kriff, even any other Officer he worked closely with, or a Senator of some kind. But no, now, Krennic just implied that the Grand Moff simply bent over and let himself be used like a whore to get his position.

And if there was one thing Wilhuff Tarkin hated and couldn’t stand it was disrespect towards his achievements.

He snapped.

“You little…” He started, his face full of murderous intent.

He wasn’t proud of what he said next or that when the Director retaliated Tarkin kept responding with the same level of aggression. Soon both of them were screaming, hurling insults at each other, the point of the meeting completely forgotten. He would compare the level of their argument to that of teenagers trying to prove who has a bigger cock. The Officers who witnessed the Grand Moff losing it for the first time in history later spoke about it in hushed whispers. Shock was the main emotion that decorated the faces of anyone who heard about the acceleration of the conflict between Krennic and Tarkin. But some were actually glad to know even someone like the Governor couldn’t escape such a human thing as emotions.

Tarkin was certain the whole incident had an opposite effect than the one Krennic intended when he provoked him. Instead of tarnishing his reputation, it seemed to have actually endorsed people towards him more. He would see that anger and disbelief on Krennic’s face when Officers passed by them or approached, and then greeted the Grand Moff with respect and awe, while completely ignoring the Director. Since his loss of control, it was normal for their arguments to end up in a screaming match. In a way it was freeing, to be able to not hold himself back for once, especially towards someone as insignificant and irritating as Krennic. But Tarkin still tried to control his reactions to the goading; it was a matter of principle and keeping up his usual front. While he knew people would appreciate a more human leader, losing control all the time would soon be seen as a weakness. Restraining his reactions towards Krennic again, after already letting them go, wasn’t easy, but Tarkin didn’t get where he was by choosing the straight path.

The itch under his skin subsided a little, but it was still making his nights restless.

 

***

 

Nobody has gone so far before, nobody else dared. However, it seemed as if Krennic had not self-preservation instinct left in him. This had to be the only explanation towards his irrational behavior.

“I will fucking destroy you.”

For his credit, Tarkin didn’t react to the words at all. He just looked at the younger man with a bored expression. He wasn’t feeling his best that day and Wilhuff just wanted the meeting to be over fast so he could finally go rest after a long day of work. Headache like never before made him ache for a long, proper sleep that he didn’t manage to get in the last weeks, no thanks to the Director. Krennic was still talking, spouting something about how he will enjoy showing the Emperor how much superior he is to the Grand Moff, that his time has passed and maybe he should be replaced. Tarkin narrowed his eyes in displeasure, but it wasn’t truly a reaction to the words themselves. His head just hurt so much. The older man wanted Krennic to shut up already.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Screamed the Director.

Tarkin just sighed. Krennic was still a boy that simply wanted others to notice him. He reacted with aggression when he wasn’t the center of attention. Wilhuff didn’t sign up for babysitting duty, he didn’t understand why Palpatine had him deal with this on daily basis when he had more important things to do.

The sounds of gasps of horrified shock were what finally made him look at the other man.

Only to see a blaster pointed at him.

At first he simply frowned in confusion. He really was tired and couldn’t comprehend what the weapon was doing in front of his face. A glance at the rest of the gathered in the room gave him the impression that something was really wrong. Their faces said it all. So when he looked once more at Krennic, he hoped the Director saw his expression clearly.

And it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“What do you think you are doing?” He questioned coldly.

His tone seemed to startle Krennic a bit, his hold on the blaster wavering. But his internal struggle didn’t last long and a moment after he was snarling at the Grand Moff, his hand steady and certain.

“I should shoot you right here, right now. I would free the Empire of your outdated ways and the Emperor will finally notice what a great asset I am with my weapon to his vision.” Hissed out the man desperately.

Tarkin felt a rush of fury hit him. His headache was terrible, he didn’t get a good sleep in weeks, he had to deal with Krennic on daily basis, having himself questioned and disrespected at every turn, no Vader to help him get the edge off, and now this.

And the itch, the itch was thrumming under his skin, in his bloodstream, boiling and filling him with that unbearable need for…

“I believe you will find that I am not disposed of so easily.” Spoke Tarkin calmly, reining in the raging beast screaming for blood.

It took the Director a moment to realize what the Governor meant. But when Wilhuff looked around the room with purpose, Krennic finally did too. All the Officers present in the room had their weapons drawn and pointed at the younger man, many wearing an expression of outrage and anger. They would follow the Grand Moff, a man who was hailed as the Empire’s hero and a crucial part of its very core, rather than a pretender who though he had any sway at all.

“Step away from the Grand Moff, Director Krennic, or we will be forced to take action.” Spoke one of the higher ranked Officers, her blaster touching the back of Krennic’s head.

Tarkin smirked at the stunned man. It was a relief that the Imperial Officers were so loyal to him. Having everyone in the room turn on Krennic the moment he threatened him with actual harm was definitely making the day more bearable. For a moment, he could forget about all his worries, the headache, and that terrible itch, and instead bask in the glory of his victory over the other man.

Until a sharp pain pierced his skull and he grimaced, hissing a bit at the feeling. He bent over in his chair a little, putting the pounding head in his hands, breathing slowly in and out.

“Grand Moff Tarkin, are you alright Sir? Do you need a medical droid’s assistance?” Asked another Officer, coming by his side to aid him if needed.

Wilhuff shook his head, waving the young man away from him with his hand. He sighed deeply and stood up slowly, swaying a little. Sleep was priority now, his body no longer able to keep up with him without proper rest. It was embarrassing how weak he was, but there were some things one couldn’t just avoid, like becoming old. Well, he wasn’t some ancient being, but he was also past his prime and should have remembered that now he couldn’t go on for weeks with little sleep and food without falling over from exhaustion.  Maybe that medical droid wasn’t a bad idea.

“I am alright, probably just a cold.” He murmured in reassurance and the Officer nodded, stepping away from him completely.

Tarkin turned towards Krennic then, seeing that he had the blaster in his hand, hanging limply by his side. The man was frowning deeply, his eyes as always blazing with anger, but also touched with a bit of fear as they darted around the room, watching some of the Officers still pointing their weapons at him.

Wilhuff couldn’t stop the smirk appearing on his mouth, even if he tried.

“I believe this meeting is over. There is no point in continuing it if some of us cannot control ourselves. Everyone can leave now.” Said Tarkin, straightening up and turning to leave.

When he reached the door he stopped for a moment, turning his head to the side, his back to Krennic.

“Oh, and the topic of Lord Vader’s inspection is over.”

 

***

 

His lover found out of course. Tarkin didn’t know which “helpful” soul decided to inform the Dark Lord of what took place in the meeting and he honestly didn’t know if he wanted to shoot them or thank them. It didn’t help that he couldn’t hide behind work, because as surprising as it sounded, he has been confined to his rooms for the time being. Apparently he exhausted his body and it needed to recover. The medical droid said it was from being overworked.

Wilhuff knew it was the itch’s fault.

“This is unusually childish for you Wil.” Said Vader in a greeting when Tarkin grumbled in annoyance at his presence and turned his back on the Sith.

He felt the mattress dip under the other’s considerable weight and a breath on his exposed neck. Soon, strong arms were wound around him from behind, a firm body caging him under the covers. Vader’s chest panel was digging into his back a bit, but the Grand Moff was used to the uncomfortable feeling at this point in their relationship, so he didn’t pay it any mind.

“Go away. Didn’t you hear I’m sick and need to rest?” Hissed out the irritated Governor, trying to move away.

But Vader held on strongly and chuckled in reply.

“From what I was told, you are far from sick. Perfect example of a healthy human male specimen, except maybe for being too tired from a lack of rest and food.” Said the Dark Lord, one of his hands moving to caress Wilhuff’s arm.

The older man didn’t respond, opting to just keep quiet and converse energy. Besides, it was really nice and warm with Vader all around him, in his comfortable bed, for once being able to just rest and…

“I thought we agreed you would tell me if it got so bad again.” Rumbled out the Sith, squashing the other against himself.

Tarkin went rigid for a moment, refusing to respond. He didn’t want Vader to know the truth, kriff, he still couldn’t accept the cold facts staring him right in the face. Wilhuff wished he could pretend that nothing out of ordinary was happening, but…

The itch. It was maddening.

“It has been months since we did it. I’m surprised you managed to control yourself with what has been happening with Krennic. No wonder your body finally shut down and refused to cooperate.” Continued the Sith.

“What was I supposed to do? Take out my knife and stab him?” Snapped back Tarkin.

He knew that he walked right into the trap when Vader chuckled once more, his breath ruffling Wilhuff’s sweaty hair.

“Well, considering what happened last time…”

“It was one time and I would appreciate if you didn’t bring it up again!” Interrupted the Grand Moff, finally managing to turn around in the strong arms and glare up at his lover.

Vader went quiet, gazing at Tarkin. Wilhuff knew how he looked. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, cold shivers racing through his tired body. A fever set in that had nothing to do with what the medical droids believed. Tarkin needed, he needed so badly…

A gloved hand cupped his face, the material wonderfully cool against his heated skin. He closed his eyes, sighing in pleasure. It was so good to have Vader here with him, his presence calming down his inner monster a bit. He knew that even on bedrest he would not actually recover with the itch still present. But his lover could take the edge off, in more ways than one…

“Wilhuff, don’t fall asleep yet, we need to talk.” Spoke the Sith gently, his hand caressing the pale face, gliding over sharp cheekbones.

Tarkin hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the hand, his eyes opening a little.

“Go on.” Was all he said, his own hands moving around the Sith.

Wilhuff hid his face in a dark clad shoulder, inhaling the scent of metal and leather, and the unmistakable smell of death, always hanging around his lover like a unique perfume. Tarkin made an appreciative sound, feeling his body finally letting go a bit off the tension from last weeks.

“We should kill him.” Said Vader simply.

Tarkin just hummed, kissing the part of his lover’s armor that he could reach.

“Who?” He asked lazily, his finger drawing circles on the Sith’s arm.

Vader growled and before Tarkin knew it, his back was on the bed, an angry Sith looming over him. He blinked tiredly, his brain not processing things as quickly as usual. Besides, he always let his guard down around his lover, the only person he could fully trust not to hurt him.

“Don’t play coy with me Wil. You know I’m talking about Krennic.” Said Vader in a low tone.

Tarkin knew he could push the Sith away at any moment and he wouldn’t find any resistance. But he was actually very comfortable where he was right now.

“Well, we can’t.” He said simply, blinking slowly.

It was logical for him why. But it seemed that the same train of thought did not enter his lover’s mind yet. A moment of silence passed between them, the tension in Vader’s body obvious.

“What.” Said the younger man coldly.

But Tarkin smiled softly in response, his hand reaching up to caress the black mask lovingly.

“Sithling, think. Why are you here?” Whispered Wilhuff gently.

Vader didn’t respond for a moment, probably mulling over the other’s question. The Governor sighed internally. For all his power, Anakin from the very start was prone to missing important details. It wasn’t that he lacked the intelligence necessary for this, no. The problem was that his emotions often clouded his judgment and then he would simply get lost in his own thoughts. Like in that moment, for example.

“I… Came to see you, because you aren’t well?” Questioned the Sith confusedly.

Tarkin laughed, a free and happy sound. Genuine amusement showed on his face, but also a deep fondness for the man above him.

“Oh, my dear… While I appreciate the sentiment and your worry, this isn’t the official reason for your visit here, is it?” He prodded, hoping Vader would get it faster this way.

The sound of realization the Sith made caused Tarkin’s smile to widen.

“The inspection. But I still don’t understand why this means we cannot take care of the pest.” Grumbled out Vader, finally flopping down ungracefully next to his lover.

Wilhuff turned on his side to face the other and the Sith did the same.

“Sithling, you need to inspect the battle station and recommend it to the Emperor. It’s actually a fascinating and useful project, even if I won’t admit it in front of Krennic. The man already has an ego bigger than a supernova and doesn’t need me to inflate it even more. I want this battle station to be fully operational and approved by you, so I can present it to the Emperor without worries. Stars know what would happen if Krennic was allowed anywhere near him. Are you catching on, my dear, or should I explain further?” Spoke the Grand Moff calmly.

Vader nodded in understanding and shifted closer, once more pulling the older man into his arms. Wilhuff sighed in pleasure and relaxed, letting the strong hands hold him. He clung to the caped back and plastered himself against the uncomfortable front.

“Very well, we will take care of him after the inspection. I will admit, it’s very convenient for us. We have been trying to pick someone for months, it’s like the Force itself wanted to make this so easy.” Spoke the Sith, lost in thought.

Tarkin nodded as much as he could, his eyes closed and face buried in the body before him. The dark felt so comforting and calm.

“Yes, it will be a relief to finally dispose of him. And we can even play with him a bit longer than usual. I will certainly enjoy putting Krennic in his place and watching his face as he realizes what he got himself into.” Hissed out Wilhuff, feeling his body heat up at the thought alone.

Vader huffed in amusement.

“You are like an angry kitten when you behave like this, you know?” Joked the Dark Lord.

Tarkin let out a growl of annoyance, trying to kick at Vader’s legs in retaliation.

“Respect your elders you brat.” He said instead.

They didn’t speak for a moment, letting the silence envelop them, just basking in each other’s presence.

“Wil? Will you last till the end of the inspection? Or should we… take a little bit of the edge off now?” Questioned the Sith softly.

Wilhuff knew that the other would kiss him right now if he could. He used to do that when the Governor got a little too agitated, the itch making him go mad with need, yet there was no opportunity in sight to take care of it. Blasted mask made everything difficult for them both.

“Hmmm… I wouldn’t say no to having a bit of an appetizer before the main event…” Spoke Tarkin deeply, his hand moving between their bodies and reaching Vader’s crotch, dancing around the material there tantalizingly.

The Sith purred in delight at his suddenly very awake lover.

“Oh? How downright lascivious of you Wil.” Whispered Vader as moved his hands onto Tarkin’s behind, squeezing the flesh tightly.

The Grand Moff groaned in need and the itch in his bloodstream sang along with it.

 

***

 

“Lord Vader, I am glad that you will be inspecting this battle station.” Spoke Krennic the moment Vader stepped onto the Death Star.

The Sith Lord looked at the Director in silence, clearly causing a certain level of discomfort for the man in question.

“I have been led to believe it was quite the opposite.” Responded Vader in a disapproving tone.

He turned his head towards Tarkin who was standing by his side quietly, observing the proceedings with interest. Wilhuff wanted to see what his lover would do and how he would behave around Krennic. After all, not long ago he was ready to murder the man where he stood. He coughed discreetly to hid his smirk as he thought about their late night activities that helped them both calm down a bit and also exhausted the Grand Moff to the point where he finally managed to fall asleep for a few precious hours. Well, he could always blame his behavior on still not being fully healthy.

When he felt Vader’s gaze on him he turned towards the Dark Lord with a smile.

“I am sure it was a simple misunderstanding, isn’t that right, Director?” Asked Tarkin, his eyes never leaving the crimson visors in front of him.

Krennic spluttered in the background, trying to gain his composure back. Wilhuff was sure it wasn’t only due to Vader’s obvious displeasure. Instead, the Governor was certain it was Tarkin’s own behavior that threw the other man off. It wasn’t normal for Wilhuff to smile around anyone really, nor was it normal for him to stand up for the Director. But it wasn’t as if the Grand Moff had a sudden change of heart. No, he simply had a very pleasant night; spent in the arms of his lover, getting properly fucked after a long period of abstinence, which would put anybody in a good mood. And if he did walk with a slight limp, well, it was completely worth it and made the itch subside a bit. Besides, he needed to start buttering Krennic up for their plan to work. Being on the man’s side was the first step to lulling him into a false sense of security.

You catch more bees with honey than vinegar.

“Yes… A misunderstanding.” Said Krennic, the nervousness in his voice obvious.

Vader hummed in response as he once more turned his face towards the Director.

“I do hope that is the case, but since you have Grand Moff Tarkin backing you up, I will overlook the slight this time.” Responded the Sith.

Krennic sighed in relief, sweat breaking out on his forehead. It was amusing how they played the Director so easily, making him think all of their words weren’t planned.

“Well then… Shall we?” Asked the man, indicating that they move forward with the inspection.

Vader nodded in approval and started to move, but then stopped, turning around to look at Wilhuff.

“Grand Moff Tarkin, are you not joining us?” He questioned, confused.

The Governor smiled pleasantly, walking up to the Sith.

“Oh no, sadly, I am still required to rest until the medical droids give me the full clear. But I wanted to make sure your arrival on the Death Star went smoothly. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get back to my ship.” Said the older man pleasantly.

But before he moved away fully, he whispered to the Sith with deep satisfaction:

“This is for calling me a kitten. Enjoy your time with Krennic.”

 

***

 

When Tarkin came back to the Death Star after a few hours of rest and gloating over his lover’s punishment, he had a spring in his step that made eyebrows rise. A few of the Officers smirked, knowing that the Grand Moff in a good mood was a chance for entertainment for them. Others couldn’t believe the sight, unused to the stern looking Governor expressing happiness.

“Lord Vader, Director Krennic – I hope the inspection went well?” Questioned Tarkin as he came to stand by the two.

Both men turned to him as if hypnotized, completely focused on the Grand Moff. Wilhuff smirked internally when he saw how pale Krennic looked, his eyes begging Tarkin to save him from the Sith who emanated an unhappy aura.

Oh, how delightful it was to kill two birds with one stone.

“Grand Moff Tarkin, I am glad you are here! We are ready for the demonstration of the weapon’s full power.” Said Krennic, hoping to divert their attention from the topic at hand.

Wilhuff smiled indulgently at the younger man. All the bravado from before gone while facing the power of the Force. Vader probably ended up choking him at some point. If the man really thought he was going to save him from…

“It was fine Tarkin, no need to drag this out.” Grumbled out Vader before he could respond.

The Governor glared, unhappy his lover was robbing him of his fun. But then again, he also wanted to be done with this whole show.

“If you believe so, Lord Vader. Now, shall we see what this battle station can do?” He said, saving Krennic from having to stumble over his words to catch the Sith’s attention.

The Sith nodded, both turning to the Director who realized that it was his cue. Without another word, he turned towards the gathered Officers and started barking out orders.

“And what will be the target, Director?” Asked Vader, seemingly curious for once.

Krennic grimaced a bit at the attention once more being on him. With his usual flourish, he indicated the moon below them, smiling in satisfaction.

“Jedha will be a perfect example of this battle station’s power.” Said the man proudly.

Tarkin frowned. They didn’t need to draw so much attention to their newest weapon by destroying a whole moon. He was certain if they did the Rebellion would find out much faster about just how powerful they have become. And this could cause some problems. Moreover, the Emperor would probably like to be the first to see the Death Star destroying such an enormous object as a moon or a planet. Krennic had not finesse in him, one does not start with the main event before the guest of honor arrives.

“I believe that won’t be necessary. We need a statement, not a manifesto.” Said Tarkin, looking as unimpressed as he felt.

Ah, there was the old Director, a snarl already on his lips, eyes narrowing in anger. Wilhuff felt his lover shift besides him in response to the obviously threatening stance Krennic was presenting towards the Grand Moff. Discreetly, he moved closer to the Sith, their shoulders brushing. He felt the other relax at the contact.

“The Jedha City will be enough for now.” Continued the Governor, looking at Krennic challengingly.  

The face the Director made caused a few Officers to chuckle discreetly. But the man in question still heard them and Tarkin observed gleefully as the younger man’s face turned red, eyes blazing in anger and embarrassment. Krennic turned his back on Vader and the Grand Moff and made a motion with his hand towards one of the Officers.

“Fire on Jedha City!” He snarled.

Wilhuff looked sideways at the Sith by his side, smiling when he saw that while the whole room’s attention was on the moon below them, Vader’s head was turned slightly to look at him.

 

***

 

He had to admit that the destruction caused by the Death Star was fascinating to watch. Such power in the hands of the Empire… They would be undefeated for years to come with this at their side.

Although, while disappointing, Krennic’s behavior after the demonstration was to be expected.

The younger man gloated about how incredible his project was and that he was sure the Emperor would be thankful for such superior weapon. While passing Tarkin he actually pushed into his arm childishly and Wilhuff could hear the silent growl Vader let out at the behavior, felt the Sith at his side begin to move forward. The Grand Moff simply made a disapproving face, shushing his lover gently. The battle station was fully operational now and the Sith could give the Emperor his recommendation. That meant that they could finally start on their plans towards Krennic. He didn’t tell the man yet about how he would be taking control of the Death Star. No, if their plans were to come to fruition they needed to make the man believe he had the upper hand. That included acting as if he was still in charge, even if most of the more significant Officers already knew that to be false.

Tarkin turned around to look at a retreating Krennic, ready to start working on the man and their alibi with the other Officers when all went to hell.

“Director Krennic, there is still one matter that hasn’t been resolved that I was sent here for.” Said Vader from his side, moving towards the man he was addressing.

His pace was unhurried, like a predator stalking a prey, that knew it wouldn’t be able to run away. Krennic’s blue eyes widened in surprise and a bit of fear, his body language oozing uncertainty. He licked his lips nervously, shuffling on his feet.

“What… What matter are you speaking of Lord Vader?” Asked the man.

Tarkin looked at his lover with just as much confusion as the Director did just now. They didn’t discuss this. Vader said no word about the Emperor sending him to the Death Star for any other reason than the inspection.

“The matter of your punishment for the security breach. The Rebellion is already aware of this project. You knew this was coming, didn’t you? I am sure you have been informed in advance about your own incompetence.” Said Vader as if he were discussing the weather.

Before anybody could do anything the Sith already had his hand out in a familiar gesture in front of his body and the Director fell to the ground choking. Tarkin always watched his lover’s power display with a sick fascination. While it wasn’t as spectacular as what they got up to in their private time, seeing the man who has been making his life a living nightmare for the last week writhe on the floor, trying to breath, clawing at his throat, was simple bliss. Wilhuff couldn’t stop the little smirk that graced his face for a moment at the torture taking place before him. It was like an offering from him lover. He couldn’t simply ignore such a wonderful gift, could he?

But the Grand Moff still didn’t fully understand why Vader did this. Until the Sith turned towards him with intent, still choking the Director. A moment passed between them, an understanding that they could only reach after years of reading each other. Tarkin understood then that his lover was giving him an opportunity to make their plan go faster.

The itch thrummed with triumph.

“Lord Vader, I think that is enough. I’m sure the Director needs no further punishment. It won’t yield any results.” Said the Governor calmly, his posture straight.

In an instant the Sith let the other man go, Krennic desperately trying to take in as much of the precious air as he could. The Dark Lord ignored the wheezing man on the floor and turned fully towards his lover, like an overeager pup. Or more accurately, and overeager hellhound. Tarkin smirked internally at the image his brain conjured at the thought. Now, that would certainly be an amusing breed of a dog.

“I suppose you are right Grand Moff, even if I still believe he deserves a far worse punishment for his failure.” Rasped out Vader, walking closer to Wilhuff and towering over him.

The older man tensed, unhappy with the level of intimidation his lover was displaying, even if it was for show. Thankfully, the Sith seemed to have sensed his discomfort and turned once more towards Krennic who was being helped up by one of the Officers. When the Director noticed Vader’s gaze on him he quickly swatted at the helping hands, getting to his feet by himself. He straightened and made sure he looked as unfazed as possible, even if the fear in his eyes betrayed him, as did the trembling of his body, caused by suffocation.

“I understand Lord Vader. I would like to discuss the situation with you in private, if you wouldn’t mind. I am sure Director Krennic has much work to do, before the Emperor comes.” Spoke Tarkin to the Sith, but he was looking at the Director meaningfully.

The blue gaze took in Tarkin, calculating and unsure. There was a confused frown on Krennic’s face, but Wilhuff also saw the tension leave the man’s body at the prospect of Vader leaving him alone for the time being. But this was not what the Grand Moff was waiting for. No, it was the implication of his words that he was waiting for Krennic to catch up onto.

When blue eyes widened in realization he almost laughed at how easy all of this was.

“You will… Recommend the battle station to the Emperor, Lord Vader?” Questioned the Director in raspy voice, his throat probably sore from the Force choke.

Vader turned and nodded at the other man.

“Yes. As much as I still believe there is no need for this horror you have created, I am also able to see the advantages it might give us in ending the Rebellion. I will discuss the Emperor’s visit with Grand Moff Tarkin to make sure there is nothing my Master would find lacking.” Said Vader, already turning to leave the room, before he even finished speaking.

Krennic just nodded numbly in understanding, not daring to say anything, least he enrage the Sith again. Wilhuff smirked as he turned to follow Vader.

Now, for the grand finale.

“Director Krennic, we will speak about the preparations for the Emperor’s visit after I discuss it with Lord Vader.” He said as he turned his head to the side, indicating he was speaking to the man.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other’s reaction. Krennic’s eyes widened, his breath quickening. There was surprise visible at being acknowledged in such way by the Grand Moff, being included is something so important. Pleasure and pride shone in blue eyes, a smirk taking over pouty lips.

“Of course, Governor.” Responded the man in a pleased tone, for once using Tarkin’s preferred title.

Wilhuff’s smirk looked devilish as he went to follow his lover.

 

***

 

“Vader… Vader, please!” Panted out Tarkin as gloved fingers stretched him open, pumping restlessly.

The Sith purred, looking down at his lover’s eyes, now two dark storms filled with lust.

“Please what Wil? What do you need?” He prompted cruelly, stopping his movements.

The Grand Moff let out a whine of displeasure when the other removed his fingers. He glared at the man above him, knowing Vader was smirking under his mask. With a huff, he started to get up.

“Well, if you don’t want to continue, I will just have to go and take care of this myself, maybe even ask someone to help me…” He murmured grumpily.

Immediately, a strong hand griped his arm and slammed him back onto the bed. Tarkin gasped breathlessly, looking at the dark creature above him, emanating fury.

“You wouldn’t dare. Only I can satisfy you and you know this.” Growled out Vader coldly.

Wilhuff smiled cheekily, reaching out to caress the strong arm holding him.

“I was only teasing, Sithling. We both know I would never find anyone else so perfect for me and my needs.” He purred out, straining up his head towards the dark mask meaningfully.

Vader seemed to be placated for now, because he obligingly lowered himself, letting his lover kiss his air vents tenderly. Tarkin let his mouth linger there as the Sith sighed, feeling the breath fan over his face. This was the closest they could get to an actual kiss and as frustrating as it was, Wilhuff didn’t mind in that moment. There was something very intimate about the way Vader let him near a piece of himself that was keeping him alive.

He was always so trusting towards Tarkin, even when they have just met and neither of them could have known just how entwined their fates would become.

“Anakin…” He whispered, lost in thought, memories of their “firsts” passing through his mind.

Vader tensed again and Wilhuff realized what he said, becoming still himself. The Sith’s old identity was a taboo, one that the other reacted to with violence and denial. Tarkin looked at the man above him in anticipation, not knowing what to expect. After all, Vader would never hurt him. Yet, there was always that tiny part of the Grand Moff that kept him cautious around the Force user, concerning certain topics.

After a tense moment of silence, the Dark Lord deflated, the air escaping him causing Tarkin to shiver as it hit his lips.

“Only you Wilhuff, only you can… I would never…” He started, but the older man interrupted him, shushing him.

“It’s alright Vader, you had every right to get upset. You do not need to explain yourself, my dear.” Said the Grand Moff softly.

The Sith was at his most vulnerable in such moments and Wilhuff was thankful he allowed him to witness such weakness. But he didn’t see the point of antagonizing his lover. He knew without words what Vader wanted to say and that was enough for him.

“Sithling…” He started in a whisper.

Vader gazed at him, clearly questioning. Tarkin smirked seductively, his eyes gleaming in the darkness, only illuminated by the soft, blue night-light he had installed in his rooms. He once more kissed the vents, licking them slowly before moving a bit away to look into the crimson gaze of his lover. Wilhuff felt against himself the shudder of desire that shot through Vader at the gesture, his breathing picking up.

“Finish what you started, my dear.” Purred out the Grand Moff.

He was being smothered by the enormous body in a matter of seconds, the satisfied smirk never leaving his face for the rest of the night, even when he screamed Vader’s name.

The itch lay dormant for the time being.

 

***

 

Seducing Krennic was child’s play compared to some of their past targets. Tarkin would even find it amusing, if it wasn’t for the fact that the younger man was starting to get on his nerves with his ego. The Director had the unfortunate quality that he could go on for hours about his own brilliance. It got to his head that Vader approved project Stardust and was gloating, believing that he was the one in charge now. Coupled with Wilhuff’s constant inclusion of the man in all important meetings and decisions concerning the coming visit of the Emperor, not to mention the compliments he has been throwing at Krennic in a steady stream, made the younger man simply a nightmare to be around.  With each day Tarkin felt more restless and approaching his limits. The disgust he felt at the way the Director was looking at him with lust nowadays wasn’t improving his mood. Nor were the unsubtle remarks from the other man that he guessed were supposed to be seductive. Of course they weren’t; Wilhuff found them lazy and downright boring.

And he was itching, so, so badly.

“How much longer Wil? You are at a breaking point. I can feel it, even without the Force.” Said Vader softly, but with impatience coloring his tone.

He moved closer to the older man, his big, gloved hands reaching towards his tense shoulders. The Sith started to massage the flesh under, observing the other’s reactions like a hawk. Wilhuff groaned in pleasure when his sore muscles finally got the much needed relief and leaned into his lover.

“Soon… He is already feeling comfortable enough to be flirting. It won’t be long now.” Answered the Grand Moff, closing his eyes.

Vader growled in displeasure. His grip tightened and he pulled Tarkin fully against himself, one arm going around his waist and the other catching his chin. He forced the older man to strain his neck and look up at his masked visage.

“Have I told you how much I hate it that you are letting him so close?” Murmured the Sith lowly, his breath fanning over the Governor’s face.

Tarkin smiled fondly, licking his lips, making sure to hold the other man’s attention.

“Oh? And what are you going to do about it Sithling?”

 

***

 

Krennic for once showed on time for their meeting, which wasn’t really surprising considering the circumstances.

“Director, I am so glad you could join me.” Said Tarkin softly, taking out the crystal glasses and setting them on the coffee table.

The younger man was sitting on the couch comfortably as if this were his own personal quarters. He probably thought so, with how things were progressing. Wilhuff didn’t miss the way blue eyes took in his casual clothing, the silver pants and white shirt, all chosen to seduce and entice. The Grand Moff made sure the loose shirt fell off a bit to bare his shoulder slightly while he was leaning over the table with the glasses. Krennic’s mouth opened slightly without the man being aware, his eyes darkening with desire. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, crossing his legs to hide his arousal. It was all so easy. Tarkin felt himself becoming excited for things to come and even the Director’s lecherous gaze wouldn’t be able to mess up his mood.

The itch was making him feel feverish.

“Governor…” Started Krennic after cleaning his parched throat.

Tarkin turned back to his alcohol cabinet and smirked darkly. His hand moved towards the bottle with the blue, electric liquid, but stopped. No, he needed to use something else first, before treating his guest to his favorite drink.

“Wilhuff.” He said simply, almost laughing out loud when he heard the way the Director almost choked on his own tongue.

“W-wh-aaa-t?” Tried Krennic, clearly not prepared for this turn of events.

The Grand Moff turned around, holding a strangely curved red bottle with a dark liquid inside it. He smiled invitingly, eyes half-lidded and gazing straight into Krennic’s, making the younger man blush at the attention.

“I believe, after working together so long and how much our… relationship has improved, we should be on first name basis, don’t you think so… Orson?” He purred out, walking back towards the man.

The Director looked like he didn’t know if he wanted to faint or just throw himself on Tarkin. Wilhuff grimaced internally, preferring the first option. It would make his life so much easier. He enjoyed the hunt and the play after very much, but with a worthy prey. Not someone like Krennic.

He didn’t let go off the other man’s gaze as he poured them each a glass of the dark, crimson liquid.

“Please, it’s a very rare beverage from the Outer Rim. I would like to know your opinion on it.” He said, nodding at the drinks invitingly, his long fingers caressing the bottle in his hands suggestively.

The Director could only nod, his eyes glued to Wilhuff as he reached for the glass blindly, drinking its whole contents in one go. Of course he did it too fast, the alcohol doing its job and causing the man to spit some of it out, coughing harshly. Tarkin knew this specific drink was very thick and strong, and should be drank slowly. He laughed internally at the foolish man, enjoying himself immensely. The liquid that escaped Krennic’s mouth looked like blood on his pouty lips and Tarkin felt his body thrum in pleasure at the images it conjured.

Oh, the irony.

“It is… It’s very strong.” Said the younger man in a raspy tone, his eyes watering from the strength of the beverage.

Wilhuff pretended to look worried and guilty, coming closer to the other. He leaned over the man, a tissue almost magically appearing in his hand.

“Forgive me, I forget that not everyone is used to such drinks. Here, you have some of it on your lips.” He said calmly, holding out the tissue.

But Krennic just looked up at the older man, surely noting their proximity. He shook his head, making a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“It’s alright, I got it.” He said, licking the residue off his lips slowly, holding Tarkin’s gaze.

The Grand Moff cringed internally. If he were anybody else he would probably find the Director’s actions seductive. But he was happily in love with Vader and Krennic just wasn’t doing it for him, instead looking awkward and simply stupid in his eyes.

But soon, soon the younger man would…

“Wilhuff… What did you want to talk about?” Questioned the Director, testing out the Grand Moff’s name on his tongue.

Tarkin felt his whole being protest at the other using his first name like that. It felt dirty in his mouth, as if it were something to be used to degrade. Vader always said his name with reverence, the Emperor with respect… But Krennic said it as if he already had Wilhuff on his knees before him, using him to his heart’s delight; dominating. How foolish of the younger man to think he would get anywhere close to such silly fantasies.

He watched disapprovingly as the Director got comfortable on the couch, his hands going behind to lay on most of the couch’s length’s. Without a word, Tarkin went to sit closely by the man, leaning back into the comfortable material. He made sure Krennic’s hand, for once ungloved, touched the bare skin of his neck. Wilhuff smirked at the hitching of breath and the spasm of fingers that shyly reached forward to caress him. He grimaced internally at the contact. It felt all kinds of wrong and he had to stop the shiver of disgust that threatened to shake him.

“I think you know why I invited you here, Orson. I thought I made it quite obvious in the last few days…” Murmured Tarkin softly, reaching towards the glass on the table.

He knew such position in front of the other man would be seen as vulnerable; submissive. The Governor basically bared his back to the Director, moving sensually as he took his drink to sip it slowly, sitting back against the couch. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Krennic’s gaze was glued to him, rapidly moving all over his body with clear intent. Tarkin didn’t say anything, simply kept sipping the red liquid. It wasn’t doing much for him, his tolerance for this specific beverage built up over the year. But Krennic, for someone who clearly enjoyed drinking, didn’t seem to have tried the more… exotic alcohols the Galaxy had to offer. Which is why the man’s cheeks were already flushed, his eyes glassed over a bit. Silently, he filled Krennic’s glass once more and handed it to the man who took it without thinking.

“I… I think I know why. But I am not certain that what I want is the same thing you want.” Said Orson cautiously, taking a sip of the drink after.

Tarkin raised an impressed eyebrow. So the Director wasn’t such an idiot after all, even when tipsy. He put his own glass away and turned to face the younger man, leaning slightly into his personal space. His breath fanned over Krennic’s face and he saw how the other moved closer as if on instinct. Wilhuff smiled softly, his eyes like two dark slits as he held Krennic’s gaze.

“Well… Why don’t you find out then?” He whispered, long fingers moving the Director’s leg, forcing it down, making the man sit spread legged.

Tarkin gripped the inside of the younger man’s thigh, so close to the hardness he could see through the dark pants. Krennic swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he licked his lips unconsciously, taking another sip of his drink and putting it down. His eyes never left Wilhuff’s face.

“Yes…” He said simply, as if hypnotized.

When pouty lips slammed into his harshly the Grand Moff had to fight the urge to bite down and draw blood. The itch raged under his skin.

He knew he didn’t have much time left.

 

***

 

“I thought we were going to…” Started Krennic, his hands reaching towards Tarkin greedily.

But the older man already danced away, going back to his cabinet. Between hungry kisses and groping caresses from the Director, the younger man managed to drink the rest of the dark drink by himself, Wilhuff’s glass still partially full. It was all going splendidly, even if the Governor’s blood screamed for death as revenge for the way the other dared to touch him and took whatever he wanted. But soon, soon his little victory high would end when he realized just who exactly he tried to dominate.

“Of course we will. But why should we rush it. After all, this is a new development for both of us. Let’s get more comfortable first.” Said the Governor with his back to the couch.

He reached towards the cabinet, his hand going for a crystal bottle with a familiar, electric blue liquid. A smirk spread over Tarkin’s face, eyes gleaming darkly. If only Krennic could see his hands now he would probably wonder why they were shaking. Wilhuff couldn’t hold in everything at this point. They were so close, so close to getting what they wanted, what they both needed. His lover to sate the Darkness in him, his Sith side. And him…

The itch, the itch was maddening at this point.

He turned back around with the bottle in his hand, now completely steady, smiling invitingly.

“What do you say Orson? Another round before we get to the fun part of the evening?” He questioned, laughing internally, because out of the two of them he would be the only one enjoying the rest of the night.

Krennic nodded dumbly, clearly flushed and wanting. Wilhuff leaned over the table and filled the man’s glass with the blue liquid, the color of it mixing a bit with the residue from the previous one. Then he took his own glass, drinking the rest of his old drink in one go, before also filling up his glass. With a smile, he lifted it up in a toast.

“To the future and to pleasure.” Said the Grand Moff jovially.

The Director smiled widely, standing up and taking his glass with him. He walked closer to the Governor, invading his personal space, his hand going to touch one of the narrow hips of the older man, gripping it possessively.

“Yes… To pleasure…” He whispered, his eyes half-lidded, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

Tarkin had to pull forward all of his self-restraint not to smash his glass over the man’s head. His eyes narrowed, smile tense. Wilhuff was glad that Krennic was so drunk, otherwise he would notice that there was something wrong with his companion.

“Drink up Orson, it’s my favorite one.” He whispered darkly, but his tone flew over the Director’s head.

Krennic smiled and then took a generous sip from his glass, Tarkin following suit. When he was sure that the younger man drank the whole thing, he felt excitement fill his body. He drank the rest of his drink and then pushed the Director away from himself harshly with a hand on his chest. Krennic wasn’t expecting such turn of events and stumbled back, almost hitting the coffee table with the back of his legs.

“W-what? What the hell Wilhuff?!” He questioned frantically, disoriented from the alcohol and the sudden movement.

Tarkin snarled, finally letting go of the pent up frustration and disgust he felt towards the younger man.

“Do not call me that.” He growled.

Krennic’s eyes were wide in shock as he tried to make sense of what just took place. He opened his mouth to say something, but a harsh cough racked through his body. Soon, the Director was grasping at his throat, clawing at it.

“B-b-bur-rns…” He rasped out.

Wilhuff nodded, looking at the empty glass in his hand in thought.

“Of course it does. This beverage was introduced to me by my uncle when I was a teenager. It’s toxic to the human system, a poison really, and if ingested in big doses can easily kill. And if someone wasn’t used to it, they would feel its effects even after… one drink.” He said, smirking at the last words as he saw the realization in Krennic’s eyes.

Tarkin put the glass away, next to the bottle he left on the desk near the cabinet early. He walked up to the other, now on his knees, still trying to claw his throat out to stop the sensation of fire melting his insides.

“I have built up a resistance for it over the years. It doesn’t do too much to me, only leaves a pleasant burn behind. Grand Admiral Thrawn is actually very fond of it too. Don’t worry, you won’t die from this… not yet, at least. We have plans for you, after all.” He said, his head turning to the side slightly.

“W-we?” Tired to question the Director as he slowly slid down on the floor in agony.

It wouldn’t be too long before he passed out.

“My dear, don’t you think it’s time you showed yourself? I wouldn’t want to start the fun without you.” Said Tarkin softly as he looked back over his shoulder into the darkened area of the room.

Out of the darkness, a monstrous form came behind Tarkin, towering over the tall man. Krennic was clearly still conscious, because his eyes widened in fear as his face went slightly paler despite being red from the heat of the poison. Vader looked almost demonic in his black clothing, the cape dragging behind him. His crimson visors were locked on the Director’s pathetic form. A dark, furious energy filled the room, the Sith’s shadow seemingly growing and swallowing all the light in the room.

“Wilhuff…” Growled out Vader, his gloved hands moving to Tarkin’s hips and holding them tightly, bruising over the areas that the Director touched before.

The Grand Moff smirked at the territorial behavior. He knew that his lover was furious that he let Krennic touch him so much. Tarkin moved right into Vader’s chest, rubbing against the man to calm him down slightly. A strong arm curled around his waist, squashing him in just the right way. Oh, how good it felt to be back in his lover’s arms.

“He will pay for every touch, every kiss he stole from you.” Continued the Sith darkly, his gaze not leaving the man on the floor.

Krennic was mostly out of it at this point, not truly registering the words or their meaning. The man no longer had any strength left in his body, his hands falling uselessly on the floor as he started to black out from the pain and suffocation.

“Of course Sithling, I am sure he will. But after he pays for all I had to suffer because of him. Then you can have your fun.” Responded Tarkin, his last words firm as he gazed hungrily at the now unconscious man.

He felt Vader put his chin on his shoulder, nodding as his breath rasped in the Governor’s ear.

“Fine. I know how long you have waited for this.” He grumbled, a bit unhappily at being robbed of having a go at their victim first.

Wilhuff chuckled in mirth as one of his hands moved to cup the dark helmet on one side, caressing it reassuringly.

“Oh my darling Sith… Thank you. You are simply the only one for me.” Said the Grand Moff softly, touched by how Vader would give in so easily to his demands.

The grip around his waist tightened. Wilhuff heard a noise at his side and looked at the source curiously. It was the bottle of the toxic drink, lifting in the air and filling his glass till it was full. After it was done, the crystal bottle was put back on the desk as the drink now floated towards him. Tarkin caught it without thought, smiling at the gesture. His dear Force user was such a romantic. With glee, he drank the deadly liquid happily, his eyes on Krennic, hundreds of ideas passing through his mind. Oh, how much fun he would have with this one.

“Wil.” Said Vader, bringing his attention back to the monster at his back.

Tarkin caressed the mask once more, humming in a way that signaled the other should speak.

“Your knife.” Continued the Sith.

Wilhuff’s grin turned maniac when the weapon floated in front of his face. He let go of the glass and when he didn’t hear it breaking he knew Vader took care of it with his powers. His hand closed around the knife with reverence. It was a gift from his lover, his weapon of choice. Blasters and rifles were fun, but a knife… It was much more personal and meaningful. And the weapon was gorgeous, with a silver hilt, engraved with words that declared the Sith’s love for him, but in a dead language only Vader and the Emperor knew. The blade itself was made from a dark emerald and it simply took Wilhuff’s breath away every time he used it, watching the ruby blood sliding down from it, like crimson rain on a stained glass.

“Vader… You know me so well.” He said, closing his eyes in pleasure.

The itch finally sang in tune with him and he couldn’t wait to let it create a new symphony with Vader, with Krennic as their canvas.

What a wonderful evening indeed.


End file.
